I Love her I have to kill him It's the rules
by suckmyyankeeballs
Summary: AU where Jackson returns to steal another chance at taking Duggan's life before losing his wife to the despicable dog. OC Joseph Mast is brought along to assist the Captain in any way possible.
1. Infiltration

Joseph took a drag on the cigarette between his lips as he watched the street ahead, the dark had come quickly that night, almost as though in preparation for what was to come. A flash of light drew Joseph's gaze upward as thunder rolled out in the skies through the thick black clouds.

_All the better._

His eyes flickered back to street level as a figure emerged from the faint fog that had gathered in the cool night air. It felt as though the heavens were about to open, and all life held it's breath in anticipation, save for two men.

Jackson was but twenty foot from him when he gave the signal and Joseph turned , his hands flicking out the blades from his sleeves as he sent them flying through the air. Tiny extraneous droplets of water had begun to fall from the skies in a great mass but it had no effect on the man's aim, the cold steel found it's meaty sheath in the chests of the two men who stood either side of the grand wrought iron gates. They hit the ground just as Jackson stopped beside him.

"He's here then?" the American spoke, his voice low, it was more of a statement than a question. Joseph exhaled, blowing the smoke from the cigarette still between his lips out as he replied. "I would not 'ave put down 'is guard dogs if 'e were not." Jackson had moved to the gates, his eyes locked on the house that stood behind them. Inside was the man he wanted to- _no. _**Needed** to kill.

"Same plan as we agreed?" Joseph murmured as he retrieved his knives from the bodies, wiping them on a cloth from his pocket before slotting them into a loop on his belt. The Captain just gave the man a look, and Mast could see he was just as hellbent on what they had decided the night before.

The rain was falling hard and fast, there was no moon light to reveal their trespassing, only the occasional burst of lightning that lit up the surroundings for a mere few seconds. The street at the gates had been deserted as they'd moved the bodies out of sight from any blues that would come to walk the beat. A key taken from one of the men Joseph had dispatched had gained them entry to the grounds and they moved swiftly now towards the building, stopping at a mass of shrubbery as they noted the men under the awning at the door.

The Colt was taken from the holster on the yankee's waist, it's sleek metal pelted by the rain as he brought it up to shoot. "Not yet y'fool-" Joseph brought his hand down over the iron, his blades ready in hand as he eyed Jackson. "I wouldn't be so quick to lose the advantage we 'ave just yet."

Stealth and the element of surprise were their only allies in Duggan's territory. "Yer so damn _American_ but use your 'ead will you?" Joseph didn't have to be in that ruinous situation with Jackson but he had a number of obligations that he had to fulfill. First and foremost being to the folks of Whitechapel. The men that resided within the house- the 'associates' of Silas Duggan were the types of bastards who caused more than half the troubles Joseph had to deal with from the poorer residents on a daily basis.

And then of course there was Jackson. He'd come to be a strong contact to have in Whitechapel, useful without a doubt and quite possibly now a friend too. Joseph had sworn to keep him alive in the wild and somewhat insane plan they had concocted so that the yank could have Duggan's head which as it so happened, would also benefit Mr Mast.

"A'right, g'head."

With a flick of his wrist the blades left his hands again, nothing but a whisper on the air as they struck crimson in the throats of the men at the door.

_Child's play._

They moved quickly from their spot to the awning, Jackson's hand already reaching out for the door knob as Joseph stood at his side, knives back in hand and wiped clean again.

"Y'only got the two on ya or somethin'?" Jackson questioned, an eyebrow raised. The other man smirked, opening the sides of his long length coat to reveal a dozen blades fixed inside a dozen little pockets amongst a few other treats. "No. I just prefer not t'leave any of myself behind."

The Captain mouthed an 'oh' in response and turned to the door again before hesitating and casting a look back at Joseph. "Listen I know y'said you'd watch my back in there but once I've got that son of a bitch just leave me be y'understand?"

Jackson's tone was strange, his expression cold with an unpleasant look growing in his eyes. Joseph hadn't been told the full story with regards to Susan and what the debt she owed to Silas entailed but he had filled in the gaps through the talk he'd heard on the streets. He didn't judge Jackson one bit, though a part of him worried if the experience would change him. It was one thing to take a man's life, but it was something else entirely to do so for pleasure, and it was a satisfaction that he guessed Jackson was after. The American wanted Duggan not just to die but to suffer.

"Of course."


	2. Deliverance

The layout details they'd received for the house had been correct so far. The main hallway downstairs had rooms either side, Joseph had been quick to check the ones on the right and found them empty, it was only the left side that noise travelled from behind the closed doors.

Jackson had disappeared upstairs as soon as they'd entered the house, and for what Joseph could hear through the deafening thunder he heard no sounds of struggle nor gunfire, meaning the American was yet to find Duggan. Joseph knew he need not hurry with his main task just yet, there was something else he had to do first. With a quick pace he ignored the unchecked rooms and headed straight for the back, down a set of steps and into the kitchens.

It was a man like Silas Duggan that would force the people of Whitechapel into debts they could never repay, or not by monetary means at least. Three daughters were taken a few weeks past, it had taken Joseph far too long to track them down, but given their current 'residence' it was no wonder why it had been such an arduous task to do so.

The door was open to the kitchen space and as he neared it he saw two young girls, a brunette and a blonde, no older than 20 surely, scrubbing down the worktops. He began to walk towards them when a delicate voice sounded from behind him. "Can I help y'Sir?"

Joseph turned, though rather too quickly at that and forgetting the strip of cloth he'd used to mask his lower face he startled a third, much smaller girl who was carrying a tray of extravagant glasses. He jerked forward desperately as the tray slipped from her fingers and managed to catch it before it touched the ground, the glasses sliding around the fine silver tray but not falling from it.

He barely had a second to exhale in relief before he heard rushed footsteps coming up from behind him, still crouched he turned his head and instinctively brought an arm up to block the knife that was making its way towards his face.

It was one of the girls he saw just moments before, there was no doubting her strength but Joseph's grip on her arm tightened, setting the tray on the floor immediately he removed the mask from his face. "It's not _me_ y'need to be afraid of, girl."

Cerulean eyes widened, her hold on the knife slackened as a smile broke from her lips. "Joseph Mast?!" It seems they knew of him. He stood and released her arm from his touch, giving a terse reply and nodded, watching as the hope lit up her eyes. "You've come to take us home Sir?" He opened his mouth to confirm their wish but his attention was drawn to a noise coming from the back door of the kitchen and the four of them eyed it, the girls turned silent and tense.

"That I 'ave-" Joseph broke the silence as he passed them and crossed the distance to the door, taking the only pistol he carried from his pocket and firing in time with the thunderclap at the absurdly large sized padlock that held the door shut.

With the iron still in his hand he tapped it to the wood of the door, it creaked open slowly to reveal two young men who stepped into the doorway. Joseph returned the gun to his pocket, his words more an utterance as he spoke. "You were _not_ seen?"

"No, Mr. Mast. Trouble's brewin' down by the ways, keepin' them blue bottles busy." He nodded as the lads spoke, turning to the girls and gesturing with a hand for them to come forward. "Go now, and make fast for home. This is Jim and Peter-" he points to the young men in turn, "-they'll keep y'safe alright?"

"Wha' about you Mr. Mast?" The blonde seemed concerned, and Joseph flashed her a smirk, his voice but a whisper as he bent his head down to her. "I 'ave business that I must attend t'first, I will follow when it's done." Her gaze fell from his eyes as the reality of what he said sunk in. It was no secret that Joseph had a talent for making other men disappear, (ones who deserved it, mind) and although she knew he had to do it, the fear she held for him was quite real. Whether Joseph knew it or not the people of Whitechapel were behind him in their own ways, they would rather not see him dead.

Joseph walked briskly back up the steps and into the main hallway, it was still free of any of Duggan's men, they hadn't moved from the room yet. _Our tip was right._ There were two double doors leading into the room that the group of men were in, and as Joseph neared the closest to him he took a length of rope from within his coat, weaving it carefully around the handles and knotting it tightly.

He pulled the piece of cloth around his neck up over his nose again, covering his lower face as he walked to the next door. According to their information the men were more or less spineless cowards when it came to a fight, Joseph was not expecting them to put up much resistance but nonetheless, this was Whitechapel and it was best to be prepared for anyth-BANG!

Brown eyes shot to the top of the stairs to the origin of the sound, there wasn't a soul in sight but Joseph _knew_ what he'd heard. Jackson must have found Duggan. He held his breath as he listened, his fingers were wrapped around the door handle ready to open it but he was fixated, frozen in his position.

Why was there only one shot? He'd have thought Jackson would have emptied all of his brass into Duggan the way the surgeon was looking at him earlier. A tumbling noise came from overhead, feet pounding against the ceiling and a heavy thud as something fell. The urge to run up the stairs was almost inescapable, and the longer Joseph stood there the closer he was in going to see what was happening until he heard a voice from behind the door he was stood at that seemed to be getting louder.

"No, he's kept us long enough. I don't care who they are that he was 'taking business' with. We have to talk about the latest proposal and for _god's sake_ where is that _damned_ girl with the drinks?!"

A familiar impulse clicked within Joseph and in one swift motion he opened both the doors just as the man on the other side neared them, his dark eyes wide with shock at the sight of the masked man. Joseph sent the doors flying inwards, striking the man in the face with enough force to knock him off his feet, blood pouring from his nose, a dent carved deep into his forehead from the hardwood of the door.

He spluttered in the blood as he tried to crawl backwards and away from his attacker, the other men in the room all on their feet as Joseph counted them. _Nine._

"Who the **HELL** do you think you are?!"

Glancing over at the owner of the voice Joseph recognised the man, he'd been on his hit list for some time, Rackshaw they called him. Just another damned tyrant in the district with a greed and cruelty almost as foul as Silas Duggan's.

A malevolent grin pulled at the corners of Joseph's mouth. "I am _death._" Without any further warning he threw his arm out as the blade up his sleeve found his fingers and was sent flying through the air, hitting the man square between the eyes.

The room erupted with noise as the men shouted and called out curses at him, some of them fleeing to the door that Joseph had already tied shut, their faces stricken with panic. Joseph counted two- no three men pulling pistols out and aiming at him. Shots fired and he was sent backwards crashing into the table behind him, pain surging through his chest, ears ringing from the sound.

_Well. I do like a challenge._


End file.
